Feedback: Pretty please with a cherry on top! Feedback and criticism (but only constructive) is welcomed and appreciated.
Disclaimer: None of it's mine except the storyline, Chuck and Lucille, Commissioner Newtown, Jonah, Ulrich, Doctor Muerte and Helena Daley. If it were, Angel wouldn't have left Buffy in the first place. This is therapy for me. Quotes taken from season 1 and two of BTVS though they may have been changed slightly to suit the author's own storyline.
Rating: Pg - 13, for violence
Pairing: B/A, minor use of other ships e.g. W/O, S/F
Summary: AU. The whole gang are werewolves,
-#-#-
"So as you can see, if I had allowed you in there that's what would have happened to you."
Xander was breathing heavily, his face pasty white. He looked drained and shocked and he wasn't the only one who looked like that. Most of the rest of the combined packs looked the same and only Angel looked unaffected, though this was clearly a façade, his fists clenching and unclenching; the look in his eyes was steely and unreadable.
Giles took his glasses from the bridge of his nose and wiped them, and though when he spoke his voice was calm and firm his hands were shaking.
"And you are a …?"
"Grimm," said Doctor Muerte. "I can see all of the possible deaths one person can have."
"Nice. Now there's a demon you want to party with," said Xander, his face regaining some of the colouring it had lost.
The Doctor looked at him, but her eyes seemed to look through him and Xander took a step back. "It has its uses." She tilted her head to the left as she gazed at Xander and then smirked. "Interesting."
"What?" Xander looked at her fearfully, but she deliberately ignored him and spoke to Angel.
"Your wife needs serious help to sooth her psyche, because at the moment as soon as she comes into contact with anyone of the male gender, bar you, your son and her brother, she's not going to stop until they're dead. And this city doesn't need a mad werewolf on the loose."
"So what are you suggesting?" Asked Angel, his voice unusually rough and deep.
"Buffy needs closure from what happened to her. At the moment she has nobody who can give her that. You need to find someone male, preferably who she was close to, who was there with her and can give her the help she needs."
Angel's eyes narrowed. "And what if we can't find someone?" He asked, his voice silky soft, belying the hidden danger underneath it.
Doctor Muerte shook her head. "Then I'm afraid you wife would have to be put into a mental institution or into a secure unit, because she's a danger to herself and those around her." Angel's fist slammed into the wall next to him, leaving a rather large hole in the plaster.
"No." It was one word, but it was all that needed to be said. Doctor Muerte tried again.
"Sir, if your wife starts kil…"
"I will not allow it to happen," said Angel, eyes flashing. "We'll find someone- there were plenty of demons there…" his voice trailed off as he thought. His hand came up to touch his jaw, remembering the vampire who had punched him, for not coming earlier to rescue his mate.
"Ulrich."
-#-#-
Angel left the hospital like a man possessed.
He took with him Oz, Gunn and Wesley, knowing they were the ones who would recognize the vampire's scent, having come into contact with him in the base. Now, they had the difficult task of tracking a practically human vampire, who could be anywhere in the Los Angeles area, with only a vaguely remembered scent to go on and no way of knowing if he had even survived the blast.
They weren't put off by the overwhelming odds though. Each of them knew what would happen if they could not find Ulrich. Angel was silent and calm but inside he was a wreck. What the doctor had shown them was disturbing and horrific and Angel never wanted to see it again. Watching his beloved tear open her friend's stomach had made him realise the terrible mental state that she was in, and he knew that if she did escape and started killing people, even if it wasn't her fault per se, he would have to deliver the justice of the pack.
He would have to kill her because she was endangering others and the safety of the pack, and it was with a heavy heart that Angel knew the responsibility would fall to him. And the most frightening thing was that he didn't know if he could do it or not.
And that was the big question.
If it came down to it could he do his duty and kill his mate?
-#-#-
Wesley watched Angel out of the corner of his eyes as they ran though the back alleys of L.A from the site of the base where Ulrich's faint scented still existed, following the light trail over the other scents of the big city.
The air smelled of smoke and petrol fumes, sweat, burgers and garbage, which spilled out of the plastic bins and littered the alley streets. Each scent had it's own distinguishing feature and sometimes Wesley wished his sense of smell wasn't quite so acute. For instance, garbage smelled like someone had slapped him with a dirty sock. Someone was having spaghetti bolognaise and he stated to salivate, almost able to taste the rich Italian tomato sauce on his tongue.
He slowed down as Angel stopped running, and turned from the back streets out into the main street. Wesley inhaled. The scent was definitely stronger but the werewolf frowned. They seemed to be in a fairly well off neighbourhood, as he looked at the expensive designer shops which stood next to each other, each window display trying to out do the one next to it. Posh apartment blocks reached up towards the skies, doormen, dressed smartly in black manned them, eyes gleaming from underneath their hats. What was a fairly run of the mill vampire doing in an area like this?
The group followed Angel as they walked over to a particular block of apartments and made to go into the entrance, trying to look as unsuspicious as possible. Fat chance. The doorman put his hand out and barred the door.
"Where do you lot think you're going?"
Wesley decided to speak, not trusting Angel not to do the man serious damage. He could see he was just about ready to have a breakdown and the last thing they wanted was to be sleeping in jail that night. Besides Angel wasn't exactly looking his best, being blown up and knowing your mate could possibly be insane could do that to a man.
"We've come to visit our friend." The doorman raised an eyebrow.
"Sorry. No pass. Nobody's told me they had friends visiting today."
"It's a surprise visit." Wesley kept his face perfectly neutral.
The doorman shook his head and waved his arms to start shooing them away.
"Listen, it was a nice attempt, but there's no way your getting in there without some sort of identification and the real reason why you're here."
Wesley tried one last ditch attempt before they knew they'd have to get in with force.
"All we want to do is see Ulrich." The man's face immediately changed at the name of the vampire, morphing into one of complete distrust, but keeping his eyes firmly fixed on them he went over to the buzzer and pressed for floor number 7.
"Luke, tell the Master, he has someone who wants to see him by the name of…" There was a pause as he waited for a name from the quartet.
"Angel," said Wesley, knowing that Ulrich would recognise that name the most readily out of the group. Wesley noticed Angel had stiffened as the doorman said the word 'master', and he knew he was thinking about the time that Kendra had been killed by Master Nest in Sunnydale, only to be revived by Xander using CPR. Why would the doorman be calling your common garden-variety vampire Master? Unless there was something they didn't know…
"Angel," the man repeated. "Angel and three of his companions."
There was a brief pause while they waited for an answer. Finally the doorman nodded.
"Okay," he said to the buzzer and switched it off as the door swung open. "The Master will see you. Floor Seven. Luke will show you to him."
"Thank you," said Wesley as the group slid in through the doors, but he couldn't help but notice the way the man's eyes seemed to follow them as they made their way to the lift.
Gunn whistled. "Nice place," he said as he admired the chandelier hanging from the lobby ceiling.
"Hmm," said Angel. "Nice and expensive too. And did you notice the doorman kept calling Ulrich, 'master'? There's definitely something we don't know about him," he growled. "But I'm going to find out".
They got into the waiting lift and pressed the number 7 button, the doors closed and the lift began its quick ascent upward, the group fidgeting as they waited to come to a stop. 15 seconds later the doors opened and they were greeted by a young man in his early twenties, with soft blonde hair swept down over his dark green eyes.
"Follow me," he said softly.
He led them through a spacious open plan living room through what appeared to a small sitting room and then through another door to a large library/office style room. Ulrich was standing with his back to them, staring out of the window. Which was another thing. Why wasn't he screaming in pain as he burnt in the sunlight?
Without turning round he motioned for them to come in and sit down. Luke walked up behind him and said something, but the boy was so softly spoken the werewolves could hear nothing. Ulrich nodded once and Luke walked out of the room, closing the door behind him, with a gentle click.
"I must say I didn't expect to see you again." He turned to face them, eyes dark and serious as he studied each of them in turn, but mostly his eyes were fixed on Angel.
"And as happy as I am to see that you all survived the explosion, I don't think this is a social call." Angel opened his mouth to speak but Ulrich raised his hand.
"I know what you've come for, Luke has just informed me." He ignored the confused glances they shot at each other and continued speaking.
"We can leave immediately if you want."
"No," said Angel. "Not until you explain a couple of things."
"Such as?"
"Why you can walk in the sunlight; why they call you Master; and how the hell you know what we came to see you for?"
Ulrich shook his head, but his lips twitched upwards, as though he was trying to suppress a smirk.
"I would have though that saving Buffy would have been more important than answering these questions," he said and he smiled derisively at the look Angel shot him.
"I'm doing this for her," he snarled. "Frankly I don't trust you," he said, eyes gleaming gold. "You're not the same vampire she knew in the base and I'm not letting you anywhere near her unless you explain yourself."
Ulrich nodded and sat down in a tall leather chair, back resting on one armrest, legs casually resting over the other arm.
"Alright," he acquiesced. "Speak on."
"Why are they calling you Master?" Said Gunn, staring at the vampire with hard eyes.
"Because tomorrow I am to become Master of Chicago." He smiled at their surprise and laughed. "Yes, I had the same reaction. After the base exploded I made my way to my previous abode." He motioned with his hands to the apartment they were now standing in.
"Apparently, you misjudged me as a common vampire. I am third in line to receiving Edward's throne."
"Edward?" Asked Wesley.
"The Master of Chicago at the moment. There was, excuse me, there is Markus and Dahlia in line before me, but sadly they will all be dying at midnight tonight, in an ancient blood rite which will go terribly wrong." Ulrich's smile of satisfaction belied his words of sadness. "Which means that I am the next vampire in line still alive."
"But how do you know all of this?" Questioned Angel warily.
"Because Luke is a prophet, which means he is very good at giving me reliable information that I would not have known until tomorrow."
"So that's how you know what's going on with Buffy?"
He nodded. "Yes. Luke informed me just now." He paused. "Is that everything?"
"No," said Oz, speaking up for the first time since his arrival. The reticent werewolf had sat and listened to the conversation around him, absorbing everything and watching Ulrich carefully and now he spoke, wondering if they could trust this vampire that they needed to save Buffy.
"Ah, yes, why am I not a pile of ashes?" Ulrich's dark blue eye's clouded for a moment with remembered pain. "The experiments the Initiative performed on me were quite brutal. Gradually they began to find ways to get rid of my vampirism and turn me back into the mortal I once was. Fortunately," he said and here he grinned at Angel. "You blew them up before they could finish the job. Now it seems as though I've kept all of the traits of a vampire but with none of the setbacks. I'm not affected by the sunlight, I don't have an aversion to holy things and a stake won't kill me. Most of the human frailties they gave me, breathing, an immune system have disappeared, I've reverted back to how I was…just with benefits."
He stood up from the chair. "So I must say, I think I have you to thank for all of this. I am in a debt of gratitude."
The last sentence was said half mockingly, half sincerely, but Angel rolled his eyes anyway and stood up.
"Well," he said. "You can start paying it back now."
-#-#-
Everything was hazy.
She put her hand to her face but all she could feel were bandages, swathes and swathes of them covering the right side of her face, with only a small eyehole so that she could see out of her right eye, but even that seemed foggy and white, as though it had snowed and the sky was cloudy on the same day.
She pushed herself up in the hospital bed, feeling weak and disorientated but not enough to know where she was. In a damned hospital! It seemed that something had gone very, very wrong. She scowled, but then winced in pain, as she felt the skin on the right of her face tighten and itch in protest. She tried a smile but then groaned in agony as her skin protested once again, feeling hot and stretched under the clean white bandages. It seemed as though neutral expressions were the way to go.
The door of her hospital room was suddenly opened and a plump, black nurse walked in, humming softly to herself. The nurse smiled when she saw she was awake.
"How're ya feelin'?"
The patient groaned.
"Okay, but there's something wrong with my face. The right side feels horrible, as though it's sunburnt." The nurse nodded and smiled soothingly at her.
"Oh, nothin' to worry yourself over dear." She finished fixing the bags and checked the flip chart on the side of the bed. "Anythin' I can get ya?"
She shook her head but then paused.
"Actually," she said. "I was wondering if you could find me a small mirror please?"
She didn't know what it was but something was horribly wrong with her face and though the nurse was keeping tight lipped about the whole thing she hadn't got to where she was today by not knowing when something wasn't quite right.
The nurse nodded once and then went out of the room, only to return five minutes later, a small hand mirror clasped in her hand, which she place don the small wooden cabinet next to her bed.
"There ya go. If ya need anythin' else just press the buzzer next to ya and someone will come."
She waited until the door was closed and then picked up the mirror in a trembling hand. She brought it up to her face, to eye level and admired her features (or what she could see of them anyway). One sharp grey eye stared back at her and her dark red hair shone in the luminescent lighting. Slowly she reached behind her head to undo the neat surgical bandages, slowly unwrapping them until, she could see what had happened.
Helena Daley, a proud, cunning and beautiful woman stared at her reflection. She stared at what was left of her face after the base had blown up.
The mirror shattered when it hit the floor, sliding out of her fingers as her grip slackened in shock.
Her mouth opened in a silent scream.
-#-#-
I'm hoping to make it to the 100 reviews mark for this chapter. Help me make it happen? Pretty please?
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Thanks to those people who did review this story, your efforts are appreciated.
Heidi: Thanks for reviewing this story. I'm glad you like it, sorry it took so long to write.
Jen: Wow, thanks for all of your compliments. It's a pleasure to write for people like you.
Sarah: Thanks for all your comments! And all of your exclamation marks!lol.
cenas-lil-hottie-Yep, it was sad, and I hope you don't kill me, cos I've used a plot device which I really shouldn't have done and made him live again. Trouble was, if I left him dead, I seriously would have complicated my story and sadly I'm not that good a writer.
Lis: Glad you liked the twist. Please don't kill me when you find out it wasn't actually real. Pretty please?
Mickeyblueeyes: See Xander's not as stupid as you think.Good thing she show'd them that vision, otherwise they'd all be dead.